Falling Into Place
by Arlewena
Summary: This is a story based on a world where Ginny doesn't let Harry leave her, and Dumbledore's gift for her changes every thing, and could possibly save two worlds. Beware, not everything is as it seems, and destiny is a hazy and vague mistress.
1. Prologue

**Authors Notes: As this is my first time writing fan-fiction please go easy on me. POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT: The prologue takes place at the beginning of the Half-Blood Prince, and is set the day before Dumbledore goes to pick up Harry from the Dursley's. This is coinciding with the point in The Fellowship of the Ring, after Gandalf helps Frodo create a plan to leave the Shire without raising suspicion, through the use of him moving to Buckland and then quietly slipping away with Sam. **

**Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings; they belong to the geniuses JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien. Please don't sue. **

**Prologue-**

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office finishing up some last minute paperwork and worrying. He had rather a lot to be worried about. He was worried about whether or not Severus could perform the required task, he was worried about whether or not Harry would be able to survive long enough to do what was necessary, he was worried about whether or not they would be able to convince Horace to come back and teach potions this year, and he was worried about when his next supply of lemon drops would come in (He was running rather low).

"Ah, Fawkes, I just don't know if this will work, so many things could go wrong. So much could happen to prevent the desired outcome. I just don't know anymore. Is it even right to expect so much from them?"

Fawkes cooed comfortingly at Dumbledore. Just then, from a picture that did not even seem to belong in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (It was a muggle painting of a most remarkable village landscape) there came a knock.

"Now that is unexpected. Though, considering the worlds are linked, maybe it is not so unexpected," remarked Dumbledore as he went to open the picture frame. "There we are," he said as he found the correct knob.

"I am very sorry to trouble you in what I am guessing to be a time of war and siege but our need is also urgent," said our new guest, getting straight to the point as he walked through the doorway.

"Nonsense Gandalf, I told you to feel welcome to come requesting aid whenever you should need it, and I would do my best to help you," Dumbledore said as he gave Gandalf his trademark X-Ray stare. Gandalf returned with his own penetrating stare from beneath his bushy eyebrows.

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><p>Now, let us learn a bit about the characters while they are involved in their staring match. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is a tall man, with long silver hair and a beard equally as long. His piercing ice blue eyes hide behind gold-rimmed half moon spectacles and he sports a flowing midnight blue robe. Personality wise, he is a rather eccentric yet brilliant wizard. Our guest, as I am sure you have inferred, is of course none other than the wizard Gandalf the Grey (He is also known as Mithrandir, Stormcrow, meddler, and a "Disturber of the Peace,") member of the White Council. One wouldn't realize this from just glancing upon him though; as he looks like an old bent man. He is robed in gray, and leans upon a staff of twisted wood; his hair and beard are both gray and tucked into his belt. His eyes are dark beneath his bushy eyebrows, and yet seem to sparkle with inner light. He has this aura around him that gives off a sense of power and age that cannot be belied by his appearance. He bears a sword, Glamdring, the foe hammer, and is a true puzzle to behold. He is short-tempered, yet also quick to laugh. The two wizards bear a marked resemblance to each other and have the same type of air about them. However, enough with the introductions, now back to the story.<p>

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><p>All of a sudden they both began laughing.<p>

"Sit sit, Gandalf, would you like a lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes please Albus," said Gandalf as he took one of the seats in front of the headmaster's desk.

"Would you like anything else? Tea? Cakes? The house elves have made the most remarkable cherry pie," Said Dumbledore as he passed the other man a lemon drop.

"Just tea, thank you," replied Gandalf.

After summoning a house-elf and receiving the required tea things, the two men sat contemplating each other over their tea.

"Well Gandalf my friend, I suppose you had best tell me what brings you here this fine afternoon," stated Dumbledore.

"Well it is rather a long tale, but I suppose I had best start," said Gandalf as he pulled out his pipe and began to smoke. He sat there for a few minutes surrounding himself in smoke rings as Dumbledore patiently waited. "Well it all began with the forging of the great rings…" he began. He then proceeded to tell the whole history of the one ring, up until the present time. As I believe you are all familiar with this tale I will not bore you with a rendition of it. I will simply state that it ends with his warning to Frodo and their plans to have him leave the Shire by September. "…And with that we are up to the present. I have been searching for answers and trying to come up with possible plans for later, and so have come at last to you hoping for whatever aid you can give us. It does not have to be immediately as it should be at least half a year before anything happens. I understand the difficulties you may have what with the way time runs differently in our worlds, and that you are probably also in a state of war, but any help would be of great use," finished Gandalf as he sat down his pipe which had long since stopped smoking for his tale had taken several hours.

For a moment there was silence in which you could almost hear the gears in Dumbledore's brain working and trying to find a solution. Finally it was as if a light bulb went off. "Ah! I've got it! This should fix not only your problems but several of mine as well!" Albus exclaimed. "You of course will need to be filled in on my plans and our background story as well," he continued.

"Wait!" Gandalf exclaimed. "If this is another lengthy story, let us take refreshments and allow me to relight my pipe before we begin," He finished.

"Why of course, how lax of me. You have my profound apologies. Sometimes my thoughts run off without me and I lose track of everything else. What would you like?" he asked as he summoned a house elf.

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><p>After they had eaten and Gandalf had relit his pipe, Albus began to recount the uprising of Lord Voldemort, his defeat by young Harry Potter, and the subsequent adventures that Harry and his friends had endured throughout school, including the resurrection of Lord Voldemort, and ending with the fiasco at the ministry. He then went on to explain his plans, and his new idea in detail. (Which of course you do not get to find out until later.)<p>

"Yes, that just might work," said Gandalf as he gathered up his belongings in preparation to leave. "You have taken care of the time difference problem admirably. I would of-course be more than happy to find several people to send back with yours once our war is over. I do believe I know of at least one that would do wonderfully, that is if I can pull him away if everything works out in his favor. Well good-bye, Albus Dumbledore. It has been my pleasure to have known you. I am sorry that we will in all likelihood, if everything goes according to plan, never meet in this life again. I hope to see you in the next life," Gandalf said as he embraced Dumbledore before grabbing another lemon drop and walking over to the picture of Rivendell (For that was of course what the muggle painting was depicting).

"Goodbye my friend, I hope that all may work out in the end," said Dumbledore as he watched Gandalf leave.

After the departure of Gandalf it was a much more confident Dumbledore that finished the paperwork and made the final preparations to fetch young Harry from the Dursley's the next day. He was now once more firm in his belief that everything would work out in the end.

**A/N: So what did you think?** **Reviews would be much appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thank you every one for reading my story. I apologize most sincerely, but updates will most likely be few and far between. I will update when I can, but I am not sure how often that will be. I will be adding songs (That I do not claim to own) either at the beginning of each chapter, or weaving throughout the chapter, for most of the story. The song in this chapter is Ready To Fall by: Rise Against. This chapter takes place at the beginning of The Deathly Hollows and several weeks before Gollum is brought to Mirkwood by Aragorn and Gandalf.**

**Edited: 4/12/14; 4/15/14**

**It has recently been brought to my attention that I had misread site policy, so the lyrics will be removed. However, a version with the lyrics still there will hopefully be published on AO3 under the same username.**

**Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings. They are all the properties of their respective owners.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Ready to Fall<strong>

_Suggested Song: Ready to Fall- Rise Against_

**Ginny's POV:**

As I am here waiting, I think of all the things that have led us here and all the possibilities for the future. I sit here in the living room watching mum compulsively check the clock and attempt to find something to distract her, and I worry. Almost all of my family is off trying to fetch Harry. Dad, Ron, Bill, Fred, George; and my friends: Hermione, Professor Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Hagrid. Several order members; Fleur (I can't believe Bill is going to marry her!), Kingsley, and Mundungus. Then of course there is Harry. Harry has jet-black hair, which never lays flat, bright green eyes, and a general disregard for rules. Harry is my ex-boyfriend… or so he thinks. At the end of last year during Professor Dumbledore's funeral he broke up with me so that I wouldn't get hurt blah blah blah. I let him think that I would be a good little girl and stay behind while him, Ron, and Hermione ran off doing whatever it is they are trying to do. But if he thinks for one minute that I am actually going to let him leave without an argument, he has another thing coming. I talked to Hermione about it when she got here, and she has agreed to help me. She still won't tell me what they are looking for but I will find that out later if I have to hold someone at knife-point to find out! Harry James Potter had better not even think of leaving me behind again or he will find himself on the receiving end of a bat-bogey hex! Oh great, now I'm worried again! What if none of them make it back, what if…

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><p><strong>Hermione's POV:<strong>

As I stand here watching Harry resist the plan because it puts others in danger, I wonder if he knows what we have already done for him. We all have gone through so much for this boy, no, man. Harry has not been a boy for a long time. As we stand there reasoning with Harry, I remember the night I left home, and feel the tears build up, but they don't fall, not a one.

-Flashback to the day after Hermione's seventeenth birthday-

"_Mum, dad, I need to talk to you," I started.  
><em>

"_What is it sweetie?" my mum queries.  
><em>

"_I need to explain some things to you before I go to Ron's, so please don't interrupt until I am done. I haven't been entirely truthful with you about what has happened to me in school. I did it to protect you, because I figured if you didn't know anything then you would have been safer, even happier. Now I am going to tell you, but then I am going to have to do something that I really don't want to do," I said, breaking into tears at the end.  
><em>

"_Shh… Honey don't be scared, we will stand by you whatever happens. We understand that there are things in your world that we can't understand or deal with. Every year we have seen you come home looking more and more scared and tired. We just didn't press you because we didn't want you to feel obligated to tell us. Just know that whatever happens we love you," Mum said.  
><em>

_I could feel my heart breaking at what I knew I would have to do, but I knew I would never go through with it if my parents didn't give me permission first. I would never take their memories without an explanation. Taking a deep breath, I began to explain what had happened to my two best friends and me throughout our six years at Hogwarts. My parents did not interrupt- even though I could see they wanted to at several points. I was grateful that they didn't. I left out several things that even with their memories gone they didn't need to know, such as the existence of the Horcruxes. When I had finished detailing my experiences at school, I explained the current state of the wizarding world, and why it was necessary that they let me remove their memories. I didn't want them to be hurt by Voldemort or his deatheaters because of me.  
><em>

"…_Wow," my mum commented.  
><em>

"_Wow…," my dad agreed.  
><em>

"_So will you let me remove your memories?" I begged them in tears.  
><em>

"_Of course darling," my mum answered, also crying.  
><em>

"_You don't need to be distracted by us while you're out saving the world," my dad agreed, any illusions of me being his precious little girl that needed his protection were now gone forever.  
><em>

_They both hugged me and wished me luck, telling me that everything would turn out fine in the end. I kissed them both before doing the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I stunned both of them; so that they wouldn't remember seeing me after the memory charm had been performed. I wiped both their memories and replaced them, making them believe that they had different names, no daughter, and a life-long dream of moving to __Australia__. That done, I went around the house gathering the few belongings that I would be taking with me into my school trunk, such as school supplies, several outfits, some money; both muggle and wizarding, several bags, and a few more personal items. Then I destroyed any remaining evidence of my existence. I fashioned my parents fake IDs and passports. When I was finally convinced that everything was in order, I walked out of the door, hailed the Knight Bus, and rode to the Burrow; sobbing the whole time.  
><em>

-End Flashback-

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked me, drawing me out of the past.

"What? Oh… I'm fine Ron," I stated.

Ron just looked at me. I could tell he didn't believe me, but he decided to just let me be as we all took the potion and changed robes. I am eternally grateful for whatever reason that the gods had to send me Ron. Ronald Bilius Weasley. Yes, I am afraid that is his name; I don't know what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were thinking either. Going back to my original train of thought, Ron is tall and lanky, with the trademark Weasley flaming red hair, freckles, and seemingly has the emotional range of a teaspoon. He is my boyfriend, and has kept me going since the night I had to wipe my parents' memories.

It is time to go now. I am with Kingsley on thestrals. I hope no one gets hurt…

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><p><strong>Legolas's POV:<strong>

Authiel and I were out hunting. Authiel is a beautiful elf; her copper tresses fall in gentle waves down her back. She is tall, and has piercing green eyes, the color of new leaves in spring. She is my lover, and also, as my father would so eloquently point out if he were to find out about our relationship, a peasant. As I am a prince, my father would of course consider her so far beneath my rank that I should not spare her a second glance. I love her though, and will be ready to face my father when the subject comes up. I must, for both our sakes.

"Legolas, what troubles you so?" Authiel asked me.

"Nothing, just thinking of the future, my father, and you of course," I answered her.

She moved closer to me in the cave we were currently resting in. "So that is why you looked so worried. King Thranduil will come around, and if he doesn't, then we will go somewhere else. Somewhere without all of these caste distinctions, maybe Rivendell. You have friends there, yes?" she queried.

"Yes, I do have friends in Rivendell," I replied, thinking of Aragorn and the twins.

"Good, so that's settled," she announced.

We sat there in companiable silence for a moment.

"Legolas…" Authiel began slowly.

"Yes?" I answered cautiously; I had a bad feeling about this conversation.

"I have been meaning to talk to you about this for awhile," she finally stated. "Since we are now both heavily involved, and both are in dangerous lines of work, especially with the evils now roaming the forest, we need to talk about what would happen… if either of us should… should be killed." She finished; her voice breaking at the end.

I did not want to talk about this, but I knew it was necessary. She was a soldier and I was a warrior. We could both die very easily in our lines of work. So I slowly answered her, "If, any thing should happen to me… I would want you to move on with you life, find some…someone new. I would want you to forget about me, except as a memory you are able to look back on with joy to give you strength to keep living, for both of us."

"I would want you to do the same," she answered. "Let us swear to each other now, that if something were to happen to either of us, that the other would not fade, but would instead move on. That they would continue living their life for both themselves, and the one that is no longer here," she suggested.

So there, in that cave, we swore to each other to move on if one of us should not make it through all the trials of life…

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><p><strong>Review Replies:<strong>

**Kylynnjen: Thank you for the review! Yes the rest of the story is post 6th year. The prologue is the only thing that wasn't. **

**Goddess of magic: Thank you! I am sorry I probably won't update very regularly. But I will do my best. **

**Anmarie: Thank-you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**LUNA GURLZ: Thank-you! Reviews make me happy!**

**ArtemisRomanus: Thanks for reviewing. I am sorry if my story is still kind-of confusing for now… it should start to clear up in the near future. Thank you for choosing to read this crossover!**

**Thank you everyone who is reading my story and added it to your story alerts or favorites! You inspired me! Thank you for your support. **

**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Edited: 4/12/14**

_**Disclaimer: Once more I own nothing, everything is the property of its respective owner... I am just borrowing.**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Only One<strong>

_Suggested Song: The Only One by Evanescence_

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><p><strong>Ginny's POV:<strong>

We weren't sure what had happened. Mum and I were only just short of panicking. Ron, Tonks, Dad, and Fred should've arrived already. Their portkeyes had arrived without them. Harry and Hagrid should've been next. We were hoping and praying that they actually arrived. We wanted to know what was going on. Suddenly the portkey arrived, and we screamed because there were people on it, and ran out the back door towards Harry and Hagrid.

"Harry? You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?" Mum shot the questions off rapid fire.

"What d'you mean? Isn't anyone else back?" Harry asked. I could tell he wasn't taking the news well. He seemed to find the answer in Mum's face because he proceeded to tell her that the Death Eaters had been waiting for them and had surrounded them the moment they took off. He then explained how several had chased him before Voldemort caught up with them. I could feel my face draining of color.

"Thank goodness you're all right," Mum said pulling Harry into a hug I could tell he didn't think he deserved.

"Haven't go' any brandy, have yeh, Molly?" asked Hagrid a little shakily. "Fer medicinal purposes?"

Mum ran to the house to get the brandy manually, effectively hiding her face. Harry turned to me and I could tell he needed answers, so I explained how Tonks, Ron, Dad, and Fred should've been back already but hadn't arrived, and how if they made it that Lupin and George would be back in about a minute. Mom reappeared then carrying a bottle of brandy, which she handed to Hagrid. He uncorked it and drank it straight down in one.

I suddenly caught sight of the next portkey arriving; I shouted 'Mum!' and pointed. Suddenly Lupin and George appeared, but something was wrong. Lupin was supporting George who was unconscious and whose face was covered in blood. I watched Harry run forward and help Lupin carry him into the sitting room and place him on the sofa. I gasped. One of George's ears was missing. The side of his head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet blood. As I rushed to help Mum in a state of disbelief, I vaguely heard Lupin questioning Harry. As I watched mum try to staunch the bleeding I knew that George would never regain his ear. I heard through my daze the sound of someone else arriving.

"Harry, give us a hand?" I heard Hagrid call from the door.

"How is he?" Harry asked.

"I can't make it grow back, not when it's been removed by Dark Magic. But it could have been so much worse…. He's alive," Mum answered looking slightly relieved.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Thank God."

"Did I hear someone else in the yard?" I asked.

"Hermione and Kingsley," said Harry.

"Thank goodness," I whispered. We looked at each other. I could see he wanted to hold me, but then there was a crash from the kitchen effectively ruining the moment.

"I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!" I heard Dad's voice, and breathed a sigh of relief because that meant him and Fred were safe now. They walked into the room. Both were pale and disheveled but neither was injured, thankfully.

"Arthur!" sobbed Mum. "Oh thank goodness!"

"How is he?" Dad asked as he dropped to his knees beside George. For one of the few times in his life Fred seemed to be lost for words. If it weren't in such distressing circumstances, I would've laughed at him. He gaped over the back of the sofa at his twin's wound as if he could not believe what he was seeing, he probably couldn't; I knew I didn't.

George stirred.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mum.

George's fingers groped for the side of his head. "Saintlike," he murmured.

"What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see…. I'm holy. _Holey, _Fred, geddit?"

Mum sobbed harder than ever. I stifled a giggle. Color flooded Fred's face.

"Pathetic," he told George. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for _holey_?"

"Ah well," said George, grinning at Mum. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum."

I blinked. He was right. He looked around,

"Hi, Harry- You are Harry, right?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry, moving closer to the sofa.

"Well, at least we got you back okay," said George. "Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?"

"They're not back yet, George," said Mum bringing us all back to reality. Harry glanced at me and motioned me to accompany him outside.

As we walked through the kitchen I said, "Ron and Tonks should be back by now. They didn't have a long journey; Auntie Muriel's not that far from here."

Harry didn't answer me. As we walked into the yard I could see his fear taking over so I grabbed his hand.

Kingsley was pacing and looking at the sky. Hagrid, Hermione, and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing upward in silence. None of them looked around when we joined their silent vigil.

The minutes stretched into what might as well have been years. The slightest breath of wind made us all jump and turn toward the whispering bush or tree in the hope that one of the missing Order members might leap unscathed from its leaves-

And then a broom materialized directly above us and streaked towards the ground-

"It's them!" screamed Hermione.

Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere.

"Remus!" Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin's arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak. Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.

"You're okay," he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.

"I thought- I thought-"

"'M all right," said Ron, patting her on the back. "'M fine."

"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom-"

"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at my brother with her arms still around his neck.

"Always the tone of surprise," he said grumpily, though I agreed with Hermione that it was surprising, especially coming from Ron. He broke free of Hermione. "Are we the last back?"

"No," I answered him, "we're still waiting for Bill and Fleur and Mad-eye and Mundungus. I'm going to tell Mum and Dad you're okay, Ron-"

I ran back inside. "Ron's okay, him and Tonks are back!" I yelled as soon as I made it to the room where George was still lying.

Everyone except the twins raced outside, and I followed behind them. They hugged Ron before turning to Lupin and Tonks.

"Thank you," said Mum, "for our sons."

"Don't be silly, Molly," said Tonks at once.

"How's George?" asked Lupin.

"What's wrong with him?" piped up Ron.

"He's lost-" Mum started, but was drowned out in the general outcry: A thestral had just soared into sight and landed a few feet from us. Bill and Fleur slid from its back, windswept but unhurt.

"Bill! Thank God, thank God-"

Mum ran forward, but the hug Bill gave her was perfunctory. Looking directly at Dad, he said, "Mad-Eye's dead."

Nobody spoke, nobody moved. I was shocked. Mad-Eye couldn't be… he wasn't… but I knew he was. Bill was not one for lying, especially about something like this.

"We saw it," said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks in the light from the kitchen window. "It happened just after we broke out of the circle: Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort- he can fly –went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. Voldemort's curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backward off his broom and – there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail-"

Bill's voice broke.

"Of course you couldn't have done anything," said Lupin.

We all stood looking at each other; I could tell none of us could believe it. It wasn't sinking in. Not Mad-Eye. But we knew it was true.

There was no use waiting in the yard anymore so we all silently went back into the Burrow. Fred and George were laughing.

"What's wrong?" said Fred, scanning our faces as we entered. "What's happened? Who's-?"

"Mad-Eye," said Dad. "Dead."

The twins' grins turned to grimaces of shock. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a handkerchief. Hagrid, who had sat down on the floor in the corner with the most space, was dabbing at his eyes with his own tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and some glasses.

"Here," he said, and with a wave of his wand he sent twelve full glasses soaring through the room to us, holding the thirteenth aloft. "Mad-Eye."

"Mad-Eye," we all said and drank.

"Mad-Eye," Echoed Hagrid, a little late, with a hiccup.

The firewhisky burned as I swallowed. It seemed to return feeling to me, dispelling the numbness, and giving me a sense of courage almost. Looking around, I saw that it was having a similar effect on the others.

"So Mundungus disappeared?" said Lupin, who seemed to have drained his glass in one.

The atmosphere changed at once. It was tangible. Everybody seemed tense, watching Lupin, both wanting him to go on and slightly afraid of what they might hear.

"I know what you're thinking," said Bill, "and I wondered that too, on the way back here, because they seemed to be expecting us, didn't they? But Mundungus can't have betrayed us. They didn't know there would be seven Harrys, that confused them the moment we appeared, and in case you've forgotten, it was Mundungus who suggested that little bit of skullduggery. Why wouldn't he have told them the essential point? I think Dung panicked, it's as simple as that. He didn't want to come in the first place, but Mad-Eye made him, and You-Know-Who went straight for them. It was enough to make anyone panic."

Thinking about it, I realized that Bill was probably right.

"You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to," sniffed Tonks. "Mad-Eye said he'd expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley…"

"Yes, and zat eez all very good," snapped Fleur, "but still eet does not explain 'ow zey knew we were moving 'Arry tonight, does eet? Somebody must 'ave been careless. Somebody let slip ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze 'ole plan."

She glared around at us, tear tracks still etched on her face, silently daring any of us to contradict her. If the situation hadn't been so serious, I might have done it just to annoy her. But as it stood, nobody did. The only sound to break the silence was that of Hagrid hiccupping from behind his handkerchief. I saw Harry glance at Hagrid, and wondered what he was thinking as his face changed from disbelieving to a mix of determined anger.

"No," he said loudly, and everyone else looked at him surprised, because no one else had been watching him go through the emotional switch. "I mean… if somebody made a mistake," Harry went on, "and let something slip, I know they didn't mean to do it. It's not their fault," he said, a little louder than he normally spoke. "We've got to trust each other. I trust all of you; I don't think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."

More silence followed his pronouncement. I understood where he was coming from, if we stopped trusting each other we had nothing, but I also realized that that same trust could prove fatal. I wasn't sure if it was a smart idea, but on reflection I realized that I trusted almost everyone in this room… when it came to the important stuff that is I amended, thinking of Fred and George.

"Well said, Harry," said Fred out of nowhere it seemed.

"Yeah, 'ear, 'ear," said George, with half a glance at his twin, the corner of whose mouth twitched.

I noticed Lupin wearing an odd expression as he looked at Harry. It was almost pitying.

"You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry; apparently I was not the only one who had noticed.

"No, I think you're like James," said Lupin, "who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends."

I stifle a giggle, Harry is just like that… whether he realizes it or not. I notice him getting angry, probably because he knows Lupin is right, but luckily Lupin was now talking to Bill, "There's work to do, I can ask Kingsley whether-"

"No," said Bill at once, "I'll do it, I'll come."

I stared wondering what they were talking about, Tonks and Fleur were seemingly wondering the same thing because they both asked, "Where are you going?"

"Mad-Eye's body," said Lupin. "We need to recover it."

'Oh,' I thought, abruptly turning sad again.

"Can't it-?" began Mom looking appealingly at Bill.

"Wait?" said Bill. "Not unless you'd rather the Death Eaters took it?"

Nobody spoke. It was a horrible possibility. Lupin and Bill said good-bye and left.

The rest of us dropped into chairs except Harry. The suddenness and completeness of death was with us like a presence.

"I've got to go too," said Harry.

We all stared at him startled… here was that stupid nobility of his again. It made me want to slap him, but it wouldn't be him without it.

"Don't be silly, Harry," said Mum. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay here," he replied rubbing his forehead. I wondered if his scar was bothering him again. "You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want-"

"But don't be so silly!" said Mum. "The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France; we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look out for you-"

I could tell that this was not having the desired effect on him. It was making him feel worse not better.

"If Voldemort finds out I'm here-"

"But why should he?" asked Mum.

"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry," said Dad. "He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."

"It's not me I'm worried for!" said Harry.

"We know that," said Dad quietly, "but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left."

"Yer not goin' anywhere," growled Hagrid. "Blimey, Harry, after all we wen' through ter get you here?"

"Yeah, what about my bleeding ear?" said George, hoisting himself up on his cushions.

"I know that-" said Harry starting to get angry.

"Mad-Eye wouldn't want-"

"I KNOW!" bellowed Harry temper finally breaking. I felt for him, but did he really think we were going to let him leave so soon after getting him here safely? He was going to have to at least wait until Fleur's wedding to set off on his "errand" what ever it may be.

There was a long awkward silence, broken when mum asked, "Where's Hedwig, Harry? We can put her up with Pigwidgeon and give her something to eat."

I saw him use the firewhisky to avoid answering. Oh my god! Something happened to Hedwig! I knew that would kill him.

"Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid, most unhelpfully in my opinion. "Escaped him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"

"It wasn't me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."

After a few moments, Hermione said gently, "But that's impossible, Harry. You mean that you did magic without meaning to; you reacted instinctively."

"No," said Harry. "The bike was falling, I couldn't have told you where Voldemort was, but my wand spun in my hand and found him and shot a spell at him, and it wasn't even a spell I recognized. I've never made gold flames appear before."

"Often," said dad, "when you're in a pressured situation you can produce magic you never dreamed of. Small children often find, before they're trained-"

"It wasn't like that," said Harry through gritted teeth.

No one said anything. I could tell that no one really believed him. I wasn't sure what to believe. I knew Harry wouldn't lie about something like that, but none of us had heard of a wand acting of its own accord before. Then again, this was an individual situation. Harry and Voldemort were connected in ways that the rest of us couldn't begin to understand, and they also had brother wands. Harry had told us over Christmas when we were planning for D.A. Maybe it wasn't so out there to believe that his wand had acted of its own accord.

Muttering about fresh air, Harry set his glass down and left the room. I saw Ron and Hermione follow him. I let him be for now. There would be time to confront him later. For now I made an escape to my room. Once I was safely there I locked the door before going over and collapsing on my bed, finally allowing the tears to fall…

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><p><strong>R<strong>**eview Replies:**

**NorthernLights25 : Thank-you! **

**yoyoyo (): Thank-you! I thought so too!**

**Salena Knight: Thank-you! I will not be doing the songs like that in every chapter. Most I will do like this one and have the song before or after the chapter. I will only do the song woven through the chapter where I feel like it is necessary. Usually it will be a multi-POV chapter. Sort of a cross reference so you can see where all the characters are at that point in time, and how the events coincide. But thanks for the advice! I will definantly take it into consideration for later. Sorry if I don't post often, I don't get a lot of time to write.**

**angel897: Thank-you for the review! I do plan on actually finishing this story, no matter how tedious it may become. I dislike it when other people discontinue their stories so I will do my best to finish.**

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><p><strong>Thank you everyone for reading. Please Review!<strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note- Thank you all for continuing to follow this story. I apologize for my slow updates, and caution any readers who this annoys that I will likely always be slow to update. If you are not bothered by this than by all means read on. I am really excited for where this story is going, and hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. **

**Disclaimer- Once again, I do not own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. The characters and overall property are not mine. **

**Chapter 3: Say You Will**

_**Suggested Song: Say You Will by Evanescence**_

**Ginny's POV:**

Mum has been driving us all up the wall with her cleaning spree! I think she has somehow deluded herself into thinking that if Harry, Ron, and Hermione can't get together and plan, that they won't leave at all. She has finally lost her marbles if she thinks that will work, even Dad has accepted that they are going, he's not happy about it but still! All she will succeed in doing is make us have to go without a concrete plan, which will be more dangerous in the long run. Yes, us. I will be going with them one way or another. I have been talking to Hermione and she has agreed to help me. The only problem is convincing Harry and Ron to let me go and that I can be useful to their 'quest' whatever it may be. Hermione has been annoyingly tight lipped about it.

Six days before the wedding, Hermione and I were up late discussing my plans. I could tell she didn't really want to put me in danger, but she, perhaps better than most, understood where I was coming from, and probably thought it was safer for them to just take me with them rather that to force me to resort to drastic measures such as attempting to follow them. I say attempting because even I will readily admit that Hermione could probably hide them so well with magic that it would be impossible to completely track them if you could even start. Still that would not stop me from at least trying.

"You need to confront Ron and Harry. Sooner rather than later I think," Hermione was saying.

"I agree, even if I would rather tell them last minute and force them to deal. It is just too chancy. Anything could happen, and the sooner they accept that I am coming with you all the safer we will all be," I said, agreeing with Hermione.

"If we can get away, I suggest we do the confrontations tomorrow. That gives them a few days to get over whatever problems they have, and Ron and I were already planning on confronting Harry tomorrow to head off any noble 'it is not safe for you with me' speeches before they even start. That would be perfect timing for your announcement I think," Hermione schemed, snorting a tad derisively when she talked about Harry's nobility complex.

"Are you sure you can break the trace? You know I hate doing this to my family, even if it isn't really me it will still be hard for them, and it will all be for nothing if you can't break the trace. How exactly are we going to set all of that up anyways?" I asked rapidly.

"Completely sure, I've been researching the trace for a while now, and if we time it right, it will just make our plan all the more believable. I understand you don't really want to do this to your family, and it is not too late to back out, but I understand that you won't, just as Ron and I won't. I will explain the plan tomorrow when everyone is gathered. I've already enlisted Tonks' help. She understands your position, and has agreed to be the one to set our plan in motion. All we need to do is make sure that everything is in place ahead of time, and I believe our plan will work flawlessly," Hermione answered me.

"Your plans always do," I told her.

"Unless they involve Harry, he has this way of completely ruining any plan that he is involved in. Though on second thought, that has probably saved his life numerous times," Hermione said ruefully. We shared a giggle at this.

"And you're sure you can't tell me exactly what you are doing?" I wheedled once more, even knowing it was hopeless.

"No, that part will be up to Harry. It is his quest. I am truly sorry but you will have to get him to tell you," she answered.

"Well, I think it is time to turn in," I said hearing Mum on the stairs. Turning off the lights, we both got into our beds and tried to go to sleep, our minds still reeling with the information of just what exactly we were trying to do.

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><p><strong>Review Replies-<strong>

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**SparklyVikingOriginalVampire- Thank-you! I like it so far too! I hope you continue to like it.**

**LUNA GURLZ - I love Fred and George as well. They are very entertaining and there is so much you can do with them. Unfortunatly I do not think they will feature in my story very much.**

**yoyoyo ()- Thank-you! Wow, long review. I think that it is important to shout out to my readers, especially those who take the time to review as well. I think all of you deserve some sort of response. I hope this chapter meets your standards. Thanks for reading my story! It makes me happy that people are interested!**

**NorthernLights25- Thank-you for the review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**forestreject- What deal did Albus make? Well, I can't tell you that. That would give away the story before it even starts! You will just have to wait. Thank-you for reading and reviewing! Hope you will continue reading.**

**SmartBlondes - Thanks for the review! I'm not sure about this necassarily being a new type of crossover, but I would like to at least pretend it is sort-of origional in parts (at least I hope some are). I'm glad you like the slower build-up. There is alot that needs to happen before our lucky (or not so lucky, depending on how you look at it) characters arrive in Middle-Earth. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Author's Note- Thanks to everyone who reviewed or added this story to favorites/alerts! It warms my heart (I've always wanted to say that...) to see people interested in my writing. Thank-you for your patience, and I hope this chapter met your expectations. Next up is that wonderful confrontational scene! Thanks again!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note- This chapter gave me alot of trouble... I am still unsure if I am happy with how it turned out. Thank you for reading.**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing. **

**Chapter 4: Don't Leave Me Behind**

_Song Suggestion: Don't Leave Me Behind by We Are The Fallen_

**Ginny's POV:**

The next evening as I was setting with the table with Harry I was explaining Mum's plan.

"I think Mum thinks that if she can stop the three of you getting together and planning, she'll be able to delay you leaving," I told him in an undertone. I felt guilty that I still hadn't told him my plan, but we hadn't had a chance to meet yet. Hermione had promised to bring me when they did, she would resort to the DA coins if she had to.

"And then what does she think's going to happen?" Harry muttered. "Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she's holding us here making vol-au-vents?"

I felt my face whiten.

"So it's true?" I said. "That's what you're trying to do?" Some answers at last… though honestly I had sort of figured that that was what he would end up trying to do regardless. Still it was nice to have some sort of solid confirmation.

"I - not - I was joking," Harry said trying to be evasive, but he wasn't fooling me. We stared at each other, I was sure my expression betrayed some of my shock, even though I had expected this, but I was nervous that it was betraying more… for being alone with him had brought back memories, all those stolen moments at Hogwarts, some of my most precious experiences. I felt us drawing closer, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me. Suddenly the door opened and both of us jumped as Dad, Kingsley, and Bill came in.

Dinner was awkward. I was right next to Harry and I couldn't help but be disappointed as he completely avoided brushing my arm.

"No news about Mad-Eye?" I heard Harry asking Bill.

"Nothing," Bill replied.

We hadn't been able to hold a funeral for Moody, because Bill and Professor Lupin had failed to retrieve his… body.

"The _Daily Prophet _hasn't said a word about him dying or about finding the body," Bill continued. "But that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days."

"And they still haven't called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?" Harry called across the table to Dad, who shook his head.

"Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?"

"The latter, I think. Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."

"Yeah, why tell the public the truth?" Harry said tightly, I could feel the tension rolling off of him.

"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" Ron interjected angrily.

"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified," Dad replied, "terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumors going around; I for one don't believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day: I just hope he's working on a plan."

There was a pause in which Mum magicked the empty plates onto the work surface and served apple tart. I considered Dad's words. I sympathized with the fear for family, but if no one did anything, nothing would ever change and the situation would continue to rapidly deteriorate. Poor Professor Burbage, she had always been kind to me, and I hoped, even if it might be futile, that nothing had happened to her.

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur, once everyone had pudding. "For ze wedding," she added, after a moment. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."

"Yes, good point," said Mum from the top of the table, where she sat, spectacles she rarely wore perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment. I stifled a groan.

"Now, Ron," she started, "have you cleaned out your room yet?"

"_Why?_" exclaimed my brother, slamming his spoon down rather violently and glaring at Mum. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!"

"We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man -"

As much as I was enjoying my brother's protestations, I privately agreed that his room should be as messy as he and his guests wished, but I was also aware that that excuse would never fly with Mum. Especially not when Bill's wedding was being held in a few days.

"And are they getting married in my bedroom?" asked Ron furiously. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left -"

"Don't talk to your mother like that," said Dad firmly as I stifled my giggles. "And do as you're told."

Ron scowled at our parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last of his apple tart.

"I can help, some of it's my mess," Harry told Ron. Nice try I thought as Mum cut across him.

"No, Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you and Ginny would change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning."

I caught Hermione's eye conspiratorially as we left the room behind Ron, Mum had finally slipped up. We followed Ron up to his room once we were sure Mum was busy in the kitchen.

"What's she doing here?" Ron asked incredously after Hermione had shut the door behind us.

"She is coming with us." Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

I cut my brother off before he could do more than splutter incoherently for a moment, "It is no good arguing so you might as well accept it," I started hardly noticing Hermione move over to the corner to begin sorting books. "I am coming with you whether or not you like it. Tonks, Hermione, and I have already worked out all the details."

I could tell he wanted to protest, but one look at my face seemed to convince him that nothing he could say would convince me.

"Fine, but you are convincing Harry," he said finally. There was really nothing more he could say, although I was sure he was just waiting until he was no longer outnumbered to really start arguing. "I assume you are going to explain your brilliant plan when he arrives as well?" he asked bitterly throwing Hermione a betrayed look which she ignored. At my nod he finally turned fully to her, "And you're okay with this?"

"She has a right to come with us Ronald. Her heart is invested in this venture just as much as ours. Harry's death would affect her just as much as it would us. Besides, you can keep a better eye on her if she comes with us."

I kept my mouth shut on several comments I wanted to make here, knowing they would not help my case.

"So anything I can do while we wait for Dad to banish Harry from his shed?" I finally asked.

"I don't think so; I already have all of your things." Hermione replied.

We looked for a safe topic before finally settling on Mad-eye, I was sitting next to Hermione and Ron was sprawled across his bed.

The door suddenly opened and Ron jumped up saying, "I'm doing it, I'm doing-! Oh, it's you," He trailed off in relief as Harry entered the room. I stayed very still, maybe if he didn't notice me I would have a chance to find out more before the arguments started.

"Hi, Harry," said Hermione as Harry settled onto his camp bed, casting a look my way which told me that he knew I was there, but not why. Well there went learning more about what they were doing… though I had to admit, it was a very slim chance to begin with… Hermione wouldn't have let him reveal anything unless he knew I was listening.

"And how did you manage to get away?" he asked, clearly he was taking stock of the situation before he decided what to do about it, or hoping that Ron would banish me from his room.

"Oh, Ron's mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday," said Hermione, throwing two books into separate piles.

"We were just talking about Mad-Eye," Ron told Harry, ignoring the problem of my presence for the moment. "I reckon he might have survived."

"But Bill saw him hit by the Killing Curse," said Harry.

"Yeah, but Bill was under attack too, how can he be sure what he saw?"

"Even if the Killing Curse missed, Mad-Eye still fell about a thousand feet," said Hermione, still sorting books.

"He could have used a Shield Charm -"

"Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand."

"Well, all right, if you want him to be dead," Ron said grumpily, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

"Of course we don't want him to be dead!" said Hermione, finally looking away from the books to stare at Ron shocked. "It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!"

"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one's found him," said Ron.

"Yeah, like Barty Crouch, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden," said Harry. That was interesting; I certainly hadn't heard that story yet. "They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him-"

"Don't!" squealed Hermione bursting into tears; I wasn't exactly pleased by this turn in the conversation myself. It was one thing to think of a relative stranger turned into a bone and buried by death eaters… but it was another entirely to think of that happening to Mad-Eye.

"Oh no," said Harry as I reached over to pull Hermione into a hug, and Ron bounded over and placed his arm around Hermione's other side, withdrawing a revolting-looking handkerchief from his pocket. Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said, "_Tergeo_."

The wand siphoned off most of the grease, and Ron, looking rather pleased with himself, handed it, slightly smoking, to Hermione.

"Oh… thanks, Ron…. I'm sorry…." She blew her nose and hiccupped. "It's just so awf-ful, isn't it? R-right after Dumbledore… I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!"

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, giving Hermione a squeeze as I disentangled myself from her. "But you know what he'd say to us if he was here?"

Ron was reminding me of before we went to Hogwarts, when we were the only two children at home, and he would comfort me after I had a nightmare. It made me strangely wistful remembering that time… so much had changed since then; it was like remembering a different world.

"C-constant vigilance," said Hermione, mopping her eyes. I felt a wistful pang, at the thought.

"That's right," said Ron, nodding. "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit, Mundungus."

It's strange, but until that moment I had never really seen Hermione and Ron together. Something about it just never clicked. They just seemed so… different, like they were from two different worlds. I mean, I had known that they both liked the other forever, and I was relieved when they finally got together, but I never really thought that it would last. But sitting there, watching Ron comfort Hermione, seeing how he knew exactly what to say to cheer her up… It finally fell into place for me. I could see what I think only Harry had ever been able to really see before. I don't think even Mum ever thought Hermione and Ron could last. But in spite of all their differences, or maybe even because of them… They were made for each other. They fit, like two pieces of a puzzle. In that moment I was jealous of my brother, I had been jealous of him before… for petty things, such as being friends with Harry, and how he was allowed to do more because he was a boy… but now… I was jealous of him for having a relationship that seemed unbreakable. I was envious because it seemed that everything would work out for him and Hermione, and my own relationship was so uncertain.

Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned forward to pick up two more books. A second later Ron snatched his arm back; she had dropped _The Monster Book of Monsters_ on his foot. I burst into giggles as it broke free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at his ankle.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried as Harry wrenched the book from Ron's leg and retied it shut… I just kept giggling at Ron. He looked hilarious jumping up and down cursing like a sailor… He was lucky Mum couldn't hear him.

"What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked, limping rather dramatically back to his bed. I listened eagerly.

"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us, when we're looking for… you know whats" Hermione said, shooting a sideways look at me. Damn… I was hoping she'd drop a more tangible hint… she could be talking about almost anything!

"Oh, of course," said Ron clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."

"Ha ha," said Hermione, leaning over to slap my head for giggling at her predictability. "I wonder… will we need to translate runes? It's possible…. I think we'd better take it, to be safe."

She dropped the book in a pile and picked up the legendary _Hogwarts, A History_. Even my year knew about Hermione's near obsession with that particular book.

"Listen," said Harry, sitting up straight. Ron and Hermione both looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance… I was confused until I realized that they had been serious about heading off his noble tendencies… sometimes I forgot that Ron and Hermione had to fight to get him to accept their help just like the rest of us… they certainly seemed to have an easier time of it… maybe because they know him the best.

"I know you said after Dumbledore's funeral that you wanted to come with me," he began.

"Here he goes," my brother remarked to Hermione, rolling his eyes. I was watching avidly, interested at the insight to the inner workings of the golden trio.

"As we knew he would," she sighed, turning back to her books. "You know, I think I _will _take _Hogwarts, A History. _Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with-"

"Listen!" said Harry again, appearing frustrated.

"No, Harry, _you_ listen," said Hermione, slamming _Travels with Trolls_ onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. I instinctually shrank back a bit.

"I've been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose."

I spared a look of awe for the older girl.

"I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me - or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you.

Assuming I survive our hunt for the, well our hunt, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't - well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know they've got a daughter, you see."

Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry. I took another moment to marvel at their relationship.

"I - Hermione, I'm sorry - I didn't -"

"Didn't realize that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you've done."

"Nah, he's just eaten."

"Go on, he needs to know!"

"Oh, all right. Harry, come here."

Ron again withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped over to the door telling Harry to C'mon.

"Why?" Harry asked as he followed Ron out of the room, leaving me alone with Hermione who was still sorting books.

"When they get back, it's time for you to convince them to allow you to come. I'll help as I can, but it is mostly up to you. The plan is set, Tonks has the body, and as soon as we go to leave I'll perform the ritual. Luckily it's a short one, so if we have to leave in a hurry it won't take too much time… Are you sure you want to go through with this? This is your last chance to back out; because once you convince him to let you come you can't withdraw your support. That would devastate him even if he would try to only show his relief… He doesn't deal well with betrayal or abandonment."

"I'm sure," I said as firmly as I could manage while running the different scenarios through my mind. Now that the time had come I found myself extremely nervous.

We sat in silence only disturbed by the occasional thud as Hermione threw a book into one pile or the other.

The boys entered the room and almost immediately Ron was explaining his plan to Harry, "Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come and live down here in my room," said Ron. "I think he's really looking forward to it - well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool - but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?"

Harry looked confused, causing Ron to exclaim "It is!" in a frustrated tone of voice.

"Look, when we three…" he shot a look at me but moved on, "don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think Hermione and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are."

"But hopefully it'll look like I've gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Muggle-borns are talking about going into hiding at the moment," continued Hermione.

"We can't hide my whole family, it'll look too fishy and they can't all leave their jobs," Ron went on. "So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula."

"And your mum and dad are in on this plan?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Dad is. He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum… well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we've gone."

There was silence for a moment before Hermione, still sorting those books, 'how many does she have anyways?' said, "Anyways, there are other important matters we need to discuss now."

"Yeah, how 'bout we discuss the fact that my sister has gotten it into her head that she is coming with us, and apparently Hermione agrees," Ron said angrily.

"What?!" exclaimed Harry.

"You really didn't think I was going to let you leave me behind any more than Ron and Hermione would let you leave them, did you?" I said sarcastically, reminding him that I was in the room. "No, I am coming with you and that's final, all the preparations have been made."

"Even if I agreed to let you come, which I haven't. You are still underage and subject to the trace. Not only would bringing you put you in more danger, but it would make our task that much more difficult, if not downright impossible, if we could not use magic without being found by the Ministry."

"Hermione and I have worked it all out. The trace won't be a problem. The only thing I ask is for you lot to tell me what you're doing, so I can help. If you don't let me come, I will just follow after you, which since we've all seen Hermione's spell work, we all know will be next to impossible, and a good deal more dangerous, since I am not Hermione and so not near as proficient as she is sure to be at concealing my presence."

Harry fumed silently for a moment before suddenly seeming to calm. He looked at me appraisingly for a few moments, making me extremely nervous, more so than his anger which I knew how to handle.

"You know the risks?"

"Yes…"

"You understand what would happen to you or any of us if we are caught?"

"Yes…"

"You can get around the trace?"

"Yes…"

"You have a plan to explain your absence?"

"Yes…" I was getting confused by this line of questioning and cast a glance at Hermione who seemed just as confused.

"Explain your plans for the trace and to cover your disappearance, and give us five ways in which having you along would benefit us, and I will let you come with us-"

"Harry! What?!" shouted Ron, who was ignored.

"-will let you come with us, under the condition that you listen to what we say, and understand that you will not be let in on what we are hunting unless it becomes absolutely necessary… as a safety precaution. I was only told to tell Ron and Hermione, and I will try to keep to that," Harry finished. He looked so determined that I knew that it was the best I could hope for at the moment. In fact, it was almost more than I had dared to expect. I nodded my head. Glancing at Hermione I saw she needed to discuss something more with the boys, alone, and so I decided to gracefully bow out now.

"I will explain later, or you can have Hermione explain to you… for now I'm going to go head off Mum, and allow you to discuss whatever it is that you need to discuss but can't in front of me," Nodding at Hermione I left the room. I leant against the wall for a moment allowing my heart rate to slow, I was going! Taking a deep breath I went to hold off Mum.

That night I was relieved when Hermione told me that she had managed to convey the basics of my plan to the boys… I was no good at explaining anyways. Besides… how was I supposed to tell my brother that I had Tonks use Polyjuice on a nearby muggle so he looked like me? He was old and dying… I remembered him fondly from when I was little and he used to tell me stories up by the creek. He must have remembered me fondly as well, because when we explained the plan to him he was happy to contribute, saying he had no family anyways. So for the last couple of weeks he carried a vial of Polyjuice potion and a few of my hairs. When he felt his time near, he contacted Tonks and took the potion, dying as a copy of me. The plan was that when I left Tonks would provide the body, along with a story of how I died and Hermione would break the trace. To all intents and purposes I would seem dead. Tonks was of course in charge of making sure my family knew I was in fact still alive, and that they got my letter of explanation.

**Review Replies-**

**AdonnennielZillah- Thank-you! I apologize, I just could not get this scene right.**

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	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note- I am so eager to write the more action filled chapters that it is unfortunately causing the normal chapters to take forever to write... add to that the way my mind likes to jump fandoms... and my productivity is not what I would wish. I hope you all enjoy! **

**PS: I also edited several of the earlier chapters so I apologize for the extra updates. It was nothing major just a few times I realized I changed perspective or tenses in the course of the chapters and things like that. Thank-you for your patience.**

**Edited: 4/12/14**

_**Disclaimer: Once more I do not own anything.**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Tin Man<strong>

_Suggested Song: Tin Man by America_

**Ginny's POV:**

I debated with myself throughout the course of the morning, torn over whether or not to go through with my plan… I was nervous, so nervous of being rejected and not out of nobility this time. But, I decided I couldn't not do this, not with everything in the future being so uncertain and unstable.

Mind made up, I waited till Harry, Ron, and Hermione started back up the stairs before opening my door and asking,

"Harry, will you come in here a moment?"

Ron stopped abruptly, but luckily Hermione tugged him up the stairs by the elbow.

Harry hesitantly stepped into my room, looking around curiously.

I took a deep breath, looking up at his face and said,

"Happy Seventeenth."

"Yeah… thanks."

I stared at him, noticing how he seemed to find it hard to meet my eyes.

"Nice view," he said, pointing to the window. I ignored him instead saying,

"I couldn't think what to get you."

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"I couldn't think of anything useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with us."

I took a step closer.

"So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by if something happened,"

"Ginny-"

And then I was kissing him, and he was kissing me back, like we had never kissed before, and we were the only people in the world, the only people that mattered-

The door banged open behind us and we jumped apart.

"Oh," said Ron pointedly. "Sorry."

"Ron!" Hermione was just behind him, slightly out of breath. She threw me an apologetic look.

There was a strained silence, then I said flatly, "Well, happy birthday anyway, Harry."

Ron's ears were scarlet; Hermione looked nervous. Harry however seemed to regain his composure, "You still need to come up with those five reasons sometime before the wedding," he said as if we had simply been discussing the quest.

"I'll see you later," he then said, and followed the other two out of the bedroom.

I collapsed on my bed. Ron was probably tearing into Harry, but my mind was a bit of a mess. I wasn't sure what to conclude from that comment, the kiss had been wonderful, and I was sure he had felt it too, but he- No. Harry was very private; he probably was just attempting to act normal for Ron's sake. I took a deep breath; I wouldn't sulk in my room all day, but first things first: I needed to work on that list.

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><p>I made an effort to act as if nothing had happened between us earlier for the rest of the day, and felt I had reasonable success. Harry's birthday dinner was quite an event; everyone enjoying themselves, right up until dad's patronus arrived.<p>

We all saw it at the same time; a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke in dad's voice.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."

The patronus dissolved into thin air.

"We shouldn't be here," said Professor Lupin at once. "Harry- I'm sorry- I'll explain another time-"

He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mum looked bewildered.

"The Minister- but why-? I don't understand-"

But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, dad had appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour.

They marched across the yard toward the garden and the lantern-lit table, where everybody sat in silence, watching them draw closer.

"Sorry to intrude," said the Minister, as he limped to a halt before the table. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."

"Many happy returns."

"Thanks," said Harry, an edge on his voice.

"I require a private word with you," The Minister went on. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, and Miss Ginerva Weasley."

"Us?" said Ron, just as surprised as I was. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," said the Minister. "Is there such a place?" he demanded of my father, placing me on edge.

"Yes, of course," said dad, looking nervous. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You can lead the way," the Minister said to Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

The four of us stood up, all of us confused and slightly apprehensive, and led the way back to the house in silence. I couldn't think of a valid reason for the Minister to have summoned all four of us, the only thing coming to mind being our plans for the year, and he couldn't know about those…

The Minister did not speak as we all passed through the kitchen and into the sitting room. It was already dark in here; Harry flicked his wand at the oil lamps as he entered and they illuminated the room. The Minister sat himself in dad's armchair, leaving the four of us to squeeze onto the sofa- me on the right, followed by Harry, then Ron, then Hermione.

The Minister said, "I have some questions for the four of your and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you three"—he pointed at Harry, Hermione, and I—" can wait upstairs, I will start with Ronald."

"We're not going anywhere," said Harry, while Hermione nodded vigorously, and Ron and I settled for glares. "You can speak to us together, or not at all."

Scrimgeour gave Harry a cold, appraising look, and I wondered for the first time how exactly their meeting at Dumbledore's funeral had gone.

"Very well then, together," he said, shrugging. He cleared his throat. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."

The trio exchanged glances as I sat in shock- why was I here?

"A surprise, apparently? You were not aware that Dumbledore had left you anything?"

"A—all of us?" said Ron. "Me, Hermione, and Ginny too?"

"Yes, all of—"

But Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, before Scrimgeour could answer, and I wondered at how well they seemed to handle the situation as a unit, directing the minister's attention away from their reactions and distracting him even as they searched for information and gave the impression of being taken off guard and vulnerability. "They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!" she said, and her voice trembled slightly, I wondered how much of it was acting.

"I had every right," said Scrimgeour dismissively. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will—"

"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts," said Hermione, "and the Ministry is supposed to have evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

She had him there I had to admit, she was good at this. When had she had the time to research magical law in addition to everything else she studied?

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No, I'm not," retorted Hermione. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

Ron laughed and I snorted; Scrimgeour's eyes flickered toward us and away again as Harry spoke.

"So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't you think of a pretext to keep them?"

"No, it'll be because the thirty-one days are up," said Hermione at once. "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous. Right?"

"Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?" asked Scrimgeour, ignoring Hermione, and I realized the meaning of the interrogation. Ron looked startled.

"Me? No—not really...It was always Harry who... "

Ron looked around at Harry and Hermione to see Hermione giving him a stop—talking—now! sort of look, but the damage was done, obviously Ron had not gotten the memo in time: Scrimgeour looked as though he had heard exactly what he had expected, and wanted, to hear. He swooped like a bird of prey upon Ron's answer.

"If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions—his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects—were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?"

"I . . . dunno," said Ron trying to cover for his mistake, "I . . . when I say we weren't close . . . I mean, I think he liked me. . . ."

"You're being modest, Ron," said Hermione. "Dumbledore was very fond of you."

However, Scrimgeour did not seem to be listening. He put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a large drawstring pouch. From it, he removed a scroll of parchment which he unrolled and read aloud.

"'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore' . . . Yes, here we are. . . .'To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.'"

Scrimgeour took something from the bag an object that looked something like a silver cigarette lighter.

Scrimgeour leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and turned it over in his fingers, looking stunned.

"That is a valuable object," said Scrimgeour, watching Ron. "It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare?"

Ron shook his head, looking as bewildered as I felt.

"Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students," Scrimgeour persevered. "Yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you four. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put his Deluminator, Mr. Weasley?"

"Put out lights, I s'pose," mumbled Ron. "What else could I do with it?"

Evidently Scrimgeour had no suggestions. After squinting at Ron for a moment or two, he turned back to Dumbledore's will.

"'To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'"

Scrimgeour now pulled out of the bag a small book that looked as ancient as the copy of Secrets of the Darkest Arts upstairs. Its binding was stained and peeling in places. Hermione took it from Scrimgeour without a word. She held the book in her lap and gazed at it. I saw the title was in runes, but this gift confused me even more than Ron's, what could Hermione do with a book of children's tales?

"Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.

"He . . . he knew I liked books," said Hermione in a thick voice, mopping her eyes with her sleeve.

"But why that particular book?"

"I don't know. He must have thought I'd enjoy it."

"Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?"

"No, I didn't," said Hermione, still wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "And if the Ministry still hasn't found any hidden codes in this book in thirty-one days, I doubt that I will."

She suppressed a sob. We were wedged together so tightly that Ron had difficultly extracting his arm to put it around Hermione's shoulders, I moved to the arm of the couch to make it possible… and to gain some distance, I had nearly been in Harry's lap. Scrimgeour turned back to the will.

"To Ginerva Molly Weasley," and my insides gave a weird squirm, "I leave a muggle's interpretation of a fairy, in hopes that she may discover that magic and light can be found in the most everyday items and places. Even in the darkest and most mundane times magic can be found to change the world."

It was a small painting he drew from the bag, the frame was a dark wood, and the picture depicted what I gathered was supposed to be a fairy, though it looked nothing like a fairy in truth. But still, it was a pretty picture, the background was a forest with a lake or stream, the lighting was dim; and the fairy looked like a young girl, dressed all in white with golden ringlets, her wings delicate and small. I reached out and carefully grabbed the small painting, it wasn't much larger than a book, and cradled it carefully against my chest; touched by the gift and not willing to cry in front of this man. (Follow the link for the inspiration for the picture kerlabs 14 - cool - fairy - hd - wallpapers - for - desktop . html / green - fairy - hd - girl - wallpaper just remove the spaces)

Scrimgeour it seemed could think of no way this gift could be any more than it seemed, though he'd undoubtedly had it completely dismantled in his 30 days; because he simply continued straight to Harry.

"'To Harry James Potter,'" he read, and I felt Harry tense beside me, "'I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'"

Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny, walnut-sized golden ball, its silver wings fluttered rather feebly.

"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No idea," said Harry. "For the reasons you just read out, I suppose . . . to remind me what you can get if you . . . persevere and whatever it was."

"You think this is a mere symbolic keepsake, then?"

"I suppose so," said Harry. "What else could it be?"

"I'm asking the questions," said Scrimgeour, shifting his chair a little closer to the sofa. Dusk was really falling outside now; the marquee beyond the windows towered ghostly white over the hedge.

"I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch," Scrimgeour said to Harry. "Why is that?"

Hermione laughed derisively.

"Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact that Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious," she said. "There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"

"I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing," said Scrimgeour, "but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?"

Harry shrugged. Hermione, however, answered: "Because Snitches have flesh memories," she said.

"What?" said Harry and Ron and I together; all of us considering Hermione's Quidditch knowledge negligible, though we really should have known better.

"Correct," said Scrimgeour. "A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in the case of disputed capture. This Snitch"—he held up the tiny golden ball—"will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you."

Scrimgeour had set his trap neatly, how could he avoid taking the Snitch with his bare hand in front of the Minister?

"You don't say anything," said Scrimgeour. "Perhaps you already know what the Snitch contains?"

"No," said Harry.

"Take it," said Scrimgeour quietly.

He held out his hand, and Scrimgeour leaned forward again and placed the Snitch, slowly and deliberately, into Harry's palm. Nothing happened. As Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch, its tired wings fluttered and were still. The rest of us continued to gaze avidly at the now partially concealed ball, as if still hoping it might transform in some way.

"That was dramatic," said Harry coolly. Both Ron and Hermione laughed, but I kept silent… there was something we were missing here.

"That's all, then, is it?" asked Hermione, making to pry herself off the sofa.

"Not quite," said Scrimgeour, who looked bad tempered now, "Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter."

"What is it?" asked Harry, tensing once more.

Scrimgeour did not bother to read from the will this time. "The sword of Godric Gryffindor," he said. Hermione and Ron both stiffened. Harry looked around as if to find the sword, though I was rather glad when it didn't make an appearance, I didn't think I was ready to open that can of worms quite yet.

"So where is it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Unfortunately," said Scrimgeour, "that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artifact, and as such, belongs—"

"It belongs to Harry!" said Hermione hotly. "It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat—"

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor," said Scrimgeour. "That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided." Scrimgeour scratched his badly shaven cheek, scrutinizing Harry. "Why do you think—?"

"—Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" said Harry, struggling to keep his temper. "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall."

"This is not a joke, Potter!" growled Scrimgeour. "Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Interesting theory," said Harry snidely. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So this is what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying—I was nearly one of them— Voldemort chased me across three countries, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's been no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!"

"You go too far!" shouted Scrimgeour, standing up; Harry jumped to his feet too. Scrimgeour limped toward Harry and jabbed him hard in the chest with the point of his wand: It singed a hole in Harry's T-shirt like a lit cigarette.

"Oi!" said Ron, jumping up and raising his own wand as I sat tensed for action on the sofa, but Harry said, "No! D'you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?"

"Remembered you're not at school, have you?" said Scrimgeour, breathing hard into Harry's face. "Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

He sounded I reflected with some bitterness, like no one more than Snape in that moment. It was not a comparison in his favor.

"It's time you earned it." said Harry.

The floor trembled; there was a sound of running footsteps, then the door to the sitting room burst open and mum and dad rushed in.

"We—we thought we heard—" began dad, looking thoroughly alarmed at the sight of Harry and the Minister virtually nose to nose.

"—raised voices," panted mum; I was grateful for their timely arrival; hopefully things wouldn't get any more out of hand.

Scrimgeour took a couple of steps back from Harry, glancing at the hole he had made in Harry's T-shirt. He seemed to regret his loss of temper.

"It—it was nothing," he growled. "I . . . regret your attitude," he said, looking Harry full in the face once more. "You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you—what Dumbledore— desired. We ought to be working together."

"I don't like your methods, Minister," said Harry. "Remember?"

He raised his right fist and displayed to Scrimgeour the scars that still showed white on the back of it, spelling 'I must not tell lies'. Scrimgeour's expression hardened. He turned away without another word and limped from the room.

Mum hurried after him; after a minute or so she called, "He's gone!"

"What did he want?" dad asked, looking around at us as Mum came hurrying back.

"To give us what Dumbledore left us," said Harry. "They've only just released the contents of his will."

Outside in the garden, over the dinner tables, the four objects Scrimgeour had given them were passed from hand to hand. Everyone exclaimed over the Deluminator and The Tales of Beedle the Bard, awed over the painting, and lamented the fact that Scrimgeour had refused to pass on the sword, but none of them could offer any suggestion as to why Dumbledore would have left Harry an old Snitch. As Dad examined the Deluminator for the third or fourth time, mum said tentatively, "Harry, dear, everyone's awfully hungry, we didn't like to start without you. . . . Shall I serve dinner now?"

We all ate rather hurriedly and then, after a hasty chorus of "Happy Birthday" and much gulping of cake, the party broke up.

Hagrid, who was invited to the wedding the following day, but was far too bulky to sleep in the overstretched Burrow, left to set up a tent for himself in a neighboring field.

Hermione passed on a message from Harry to meet upstairs after everyone had gone to bed.

Finally, Hermione and I walked upstairs before Hermione tapped on the door and we were let in. The gifts were examined at detail, but the only extra detail we were able to wring from them was the message _I open at the close _from the snitch, which it turned out Harry had nearly swallowed- a story I had to get later. So we went to bed feeling confused and slightly demoralized, though I was at least able to give Harry the list of reasons I had composed at odd moments during the day, hopefully they met his approval.

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><p><em>Sometimes late when things are real<em>

_And people share the gift of gab between themselves_

_Some are quick to take the bait_

_And catch the perfect prize that waits among the shelves_

_But Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man_

_That he didn't, didn't already have_

_And Cause never was the reason for the evening_

_Or the tropic of Sir Galahad._

_So please believe in me_

_When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round_

_Smoke glass stain bright color_

_Image going down, down, down, down_

_Soapsuds green like bubbles_

_Oh, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man_

_That he didn't, didn't already have_

_And Cause never was the reason for the evening_

_Or the tropic of Sir Galahad_

_So please believe in me_

_When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round_

_Smoke glass stain bright color_

_Image going down, down, down, down_

_Soapsuds green like bubbles_

_No, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man_

_That he didn't, didn't already have_

_And Cause never was the reason for the evening_

_Or the tropic of Sir Galahad_

_So please believe in me_

-Tin Man by: America

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><p><strong>Thank-you for reading, please leave a review. Constructive critism welcome, particularly because I have no beta, and my friend is no longer editing, due to interference from her RL.<strong>

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><p><strong>Review Replies-<strong>

**TMNinjaGinga: Afraid I can't tell you that... . . it's a secret. The summary idea has merit... I think I'll consider it.**

**TsukiyoTenshi: Unfortunately I think they will stay very close to the book for a little while; hopefully I can manage to keep your interest till we get to the good parts. **


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: You may notice that the summary and rating have undergone recent change. As I have written this story, I have found it growing—and like any growing thing, the dead weight had to be removed. Basically I have removed some pieces from the plot that I found no longer really fit—such as the mention of Hermione having an I-Pod in the first chapter. This also meant that the story would no longer fall into the M category as the rape has been removed from the plot, so I have changed the rating to reflect that. Thank-you for your understanding.**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **_

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><p>Chapter 6: A Moment Like This<p>

_Suggested Song: A Moment Like this by Kelly Clarkson_

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><p><strong>Hermione's POV:<strong>

I was in the room with Ginny and Gabrielle, helping them put the finishing touches to their hair and make-up as the guests were escorted to their proper locations.

"There. Perfect," I said, tugging Ginny's dress down to sit properly. Ginny looked stunning in the pale gold Fleur had chosen for her bridesmaids, and I couldn't help but to feel a moment's pang of envy looking at the younger girl. I quickly brushed it aside however, as I moved to allow Ginny and Gabrielle – whom Mrs. Weasley had been helping – to take a look in the mirror.

"Oh, you girls look lovely," exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, dabbing a few tears before running off to check on Bill and Charlie. She returned a few moments later with Mr. Delacour, just in time to see Mrs. Delacour lead Fleur through the door.

I caught my breath. Fleur was an absolute vision, and glowing to boot. I felt every dream I'd had about my wedding as a young girl smash into oblivion to be replaced with the simple wish to be as happy as Fleur looked now when the day came. I had a sudden vision of my father walking me down an aisle to where Ron and Harry – the best man of course – were standing. I blushed, and quickly added my own compliment to the mass being thrown at a now blushing Fleur.

It wasn't long however, before Mrs. Weasley was ushering me out so I could go find a seat. I ran into a rather disagreeable woman, whom Mrs. Weasley called Aunt Muriel – I remembered Ron mentioning a great-aunt by that name once – as I began to make my way down stairs- a harder task than usual with the heels.

"Oh dear, is this the Muggle-born?" and without waiting for an answer sneered, "Bad posture and skinny ankles," in a tone of disapproval; before discounting me completely to begin lecturing Mrs. Weasley on the correct use of some tiara – I assumed it was in the box Muriel was carrying. Deciding I was no longer needed, I made my way outside and began to look for Ron and the polyjuiced Harry, leaving Mrs. Weasley looking rather hassled as she tried to get a word in edgewise.

Finally catching sight of Ron, I hurried over.

"You look great!" he commented, sounding rather gob smacked.

"Always the tone of surprise," I commented fondly, smiling. I felt pretty in my lilac dress and matching heels, my hair cooperating for once.

"Your Great—Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur the tiara. She says, 'Oh dear, is this the Muggle-born?' and then, 'Bad posture and skinny ankles.'" I said taking a moment to admire the picture Ron cut in his deep blue dress robes.

"Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone," said Ron.

"Talking about Muriel?" inquired George, emerging from the marquee with Fred. "Yeah, she' just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat. I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings."

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" I asked, amused.

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end," conceded George.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party." said Fred. "He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—"

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," I cut him off before he could get graphic, grimacing as Harry roared with laughter.

"Never married, for some reason," said Ron.

"You amaze me," I said dryly.

We were all laughing so much that it took me by surprise when a late-comer held out an invitation to Ron and said, "You look vunderful," to me.

"Victor!" I shrieked, making a move to hug him before catching myself as I heard my bag hit the ground. I scrambled to pick it up, blushing, as I stammered, "I didn't know you were – goodness – it's lovely to see – how are you?"

I was flustered upon seeing him again. The last time had been briefly in the early part of the summer before fifth year. I shook off the memories in time to hear Ron almost accusingly ask, "How come you're here?"

"Fleur invited me," Victor answered, with raised eyebrows. I fought back another blush upon realizing Ron was jealous… again.

I was grateful when Harry offered to show Victor to his seat, I was gratified that Ron jealous, but at the same time had no desire to repeat the extremes of fourth or sixth years.

A few seconds later, I realized that we needed to be in our seats, and dragged Ron, Fred and George down the aisle, Fred stopping to nab Harry.

Harry, Ron and I took our seats in the second row behind Fred and George. I was still feeling rather flustered, and tried to ignore everyone long enough to pull myself back together.

Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley strolled up the aisle, smiling and waving at relatives.

A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Then the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.

"Ooooh!" I said, swiveling around in my seat to look at the entrance so as not to miss anything.

A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everyone it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, looked even prettier than usual, and once Fleur had reached him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a slightly singsong voice. I noticed that it belonged to the same, tufty-haired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore's funeral, now standing in front of bill and Fleur. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls . . . "

"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely," said Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. "But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut."

Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, and then quickly faced the front again. I was captivated, I had been to a wedding before, once, when my mother's cousin had gotten married when I was eight- but I was eager to see how this was different. And if I was deciding what aspects I wanted magical versus muggle in my own, well no one ever had to know.

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle. . . . ?"

In the front row, Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpetlike sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. I turned and beamed at Harry; my eyes full of tears.

" . . . then I declare you bonded for life." The tufty-haired wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst: Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called the tuft-haired wizard. "If you would please stand up!"

We all did so, Auntie Muriel grumbling audibly; he waved his wand again. The seats on which we had been sitting rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that we stood beneath a canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside.

Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs grouped themselves around small white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth around it, and the golden-jacketed hand trooped toward a podium.

"Smooth," said Ron approvingly as the waiters popped up on all sides, some bearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and firewhisky, other tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches.

"We should go and congratulate them!" I said, standing on tiptoe to try and see where Bill and Fleur had vanished amid a crowd of well-wishers.

"We'll have time later," shrugged Ron, snatching three butterbeers from a passing tray and handing one to Harry. "Hermione, come on, let's grab a table. . . . Not there! Nowhere near Muriel—"

Ron led the way across the empty dance floor, glancing left and right as he went: I rolled my eyes, but said nothing. By the time we reached the other side of the Marquee, most of the tables were occupied: The emptiest was the one where Luna sat alone.

"All right if we join you?" asked Ron.

"Oh yes," she said happily. "Daddy's just gone to give Bill and Fleur our present."

"What is it, a lifetime's supply of Gurdyroots?" asked Ron.

I kicked him under the table, but winced as I realized I'd hit Harry instead. The conversation drifted as the band began to play. Bill and Fleur took to the dance floor first, to great applause; after a while, Mr. Weasley led Madame Delacour onto the floor, followed by Mrs. Weasley and Fleur's father.

"I like this song," said Luna, swaying in time to the waltzlike tune, and a few seconds later she stood up and glided onto the dance floor, where she revolved on the spot, quite alone, eyes closed and waving her arms.

"She's great, isn't she?" said Ron admiringly. "Always good value."

At that moment Victor sat down at the table, I felt flustered once more – it was rather awkward to have my ex and current boyfriend at the same table; though I still enjoyed Victor's company, and compliments.

"Who is that man in the yellow?" Victor growled.

"That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours," said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation.

"Come and dance," he added abruptly, turning to me.

I was taken aback for a moment, but settled on being pleased he'd asked me to dance at all and got up. We began dancing a rough approximation of a waltz.

"Relax," I said, fighting not to laugh – that would just frustrate him.

He rolled his eyes, but actually did as he was told. Soon we had made our way to the center of the dance floor, but I hardly noticed. My world had narrowed to just the two of us. I had my arms around his shoulders, and his were around my waist, and everything in that moment was perfect. I knew then that this was the man I wanted to marry one day, to have kids with, to grow old with. I loved him, and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. We danced for what felt like a lifetime, it could have been hours it could have been minutes. Finally we made our way to the edge of the dance floor, and stopped. For a moment we just looked at each other, before Ron slowly leaned down. I reached up to meet him in the most perfect kiss of my life thus far. We finally pulled apart.

"Hey," Ron breathed.

"Hey," I giggled, feeling like a walking cliché.

We both broke into breathless laughter before Ron went to grab more butterbeer, as I went to go find Harry. I passed Victor storming by, and noticed Luna's father nearby looking angry. Finally I caught sight of Harry, and narrowly avoiding Muriel's path, drew up a chair.

"I simply can't dance anymore," I panted, slipping off one of my shoes and rubbing the sole of m foot – heels hurt after a while. "Ron's gone looking to find more butterbeers. It's a bit odd. I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it looked like they'd been arguing—" I dropped my voice to keep from being overheard, staring at him as I noticed his expression. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry looked like he did not know where to begin, but it did not matter, at that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze absurdly in mid-dance. Then the Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

Everything seemed fuzzy, slow. Harry and I jumped to our feet and drew our wands. Many people were only just realizing that something strange had happened; heads were still turning toward the silver cat as it vanished. Silence spread outward in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus had landed. Then somebody screamed. We threw ourselves into the panicking crowd.

Guests were sprinting in all directions; many were Disapparating; the protective enchantments around the Burrow had broken.

"Ron!" I cried. "Ron, where are you?"

As we pushed their way across the dance floor, I saw cloaked and masked figures appearing in the crowd; Harry managed to nab Ginny as we saw Lupin and Tonks, their wands raised, and heard both of them shout, "Protego!", a cry that was echoed on all sides—

"Ron! Ron!" I called, half sobbing as we were buffered by terrified guests: Harry seized my hand as well as a streak of light whizzed over our heads, whether a protective charm or something more sinister I did not know—

And then Ron was there. He caught hold of my free arm, and I turned on the spot – headed for the first destination that came to mind, my only thought to get out – Harry must not be seen. Sight and sound were extinguished as darkness pressed in upon us; all I could feel Harry and Ron squeezing my hands as we were squeezed through space and time, away from the Burrow, away from the descending Death Eaters, away, perhaps, from Voldemort himself. . . .

"Where are we?" said Ron's voice as we landed.

"Tottenham Court Road," I panted. "Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change."

We half walked, half ran up the wide dark street thronged with late-night revelers and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them. A double-decker bus rumbled by and a group of merry pub-goers ogled us as we passed; Harry and Ron were still wearing dress robes, and Ginny and I were far to dressed up.

"Hermione, we haven't got anything to change into," Ron told me, as a young woman burst into raucous giggles at the sight of him.

"Why didn't I make sure I had the Invisibility Cloak with me?" said Harry, "All last year I kept it on me and—"

"It's okay, I've got the Cloak, I've got clothes for all of you," I said, "Just try and act naturally until—this will do."

I led them down a side street, then into the shelter of a shadowy alleyway.

"When you say you've got the Cloak, and clothes . . . " said Harry, as I rummaged through the bag.

"Yes, they're here," I said shortly, pulling out a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, some maroon socks, and finally the silvery Invisibility Cloak, having decided Ginny and I could wait until we got somewhere safer – our dresses could pass as muggle, and I didn't want to change in the alleyway.

"How the ruddy hell—?"

"Undetectable Extension Charm," I explained. "Tricky, but I think I've done it okay; anyway, I managed to fit everything we need in here." I gave the bag a little shake to emphasize my point, and it echoed like a cargo hold as a number of heavy objects rolled around inside it, I felt my heart sink before pushing it aside. "Oh, damn, that'll be the books," I said, peering into it to assess the damage, "and I had them all stacked by subject. . . . Oh well. . . . Harry, you'd better take the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, hurry up and change. . . ."

"When did you do all this?" Harry asked as Ron stripped off his robes.

"I told you at the Burrow, I've had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway. I packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here. . . . I just had a feeling. . . ."

"You're amazing, you are," said Ron, handing me his bundled up robes.

"Thank you," I said, managing a small smile as I pushed the robes into the bag, ignoring Ginny's silent request for a change of clothes. "Please, Harry, get that Cloak on!"

Harry threw his Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders and pulled it up over his head, vanishing from sight.

"The others—everybody at the wedding—"

"We can't worry about that now," I whispered, trying to ignore the possibilities running through my head. "It's you they're after, Harry, and we'll just put everyone in even more danger by going back."

"She's right," said Ron, who seemed to know that Harry was about to argue, even if he could not see his face. "Most of the Order was there, they'll look after everyone."

"Yeah." Said Harry unconvincingly.

"More importantly, Hermione why don't I get a change of clothes?" Ginny demanded, apparently tired of waiting.

"We can wait until we reach a safer place. Now come on, I think we ought to keep moving."

We moved back up the side street and onto the main road again, where a group of men on the opposite side was singing and weaving across the pavement.

"Just as a matter of interest, why Tottenham Court Road?" Ron asked.

"I've no idea, it just popped into my head, but I'm sure we're safer out in the Muggle world, it's not where they'll expect us to be."

"True," said Ron, looking around, "but don't you feel a bit— exposed?"

"Where else is there?" I asked, cringing as the men on the other side of the road started wolf-whistling at Ginny and I. "We can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, can we? And Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there. . . . I suppose we could try my parents' home, though I think there's a chance they might check there. . . . Oh, I wish they'd shut up!"

"All right, darlings?" the drunkest of the men on the other pavement was yelling. "Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!"

"Let's sit down somewhere," I said hastily as Ron opened his mouth to shout back across the road, cringing as Ginny flipped the guy a bird. "Look, this will do, in here!"

It was a small and shabby all-night cafe. A light layer of grease lay on all the Formica-topped tables, but it was at least empty.

Harry slipped into a booth first and Ron sat next to him opposite Ginny and I, who had our backs to the entrance and did not like it: I glanced over my shoulder frequently, obsessively, and Ginny was tense beside me.

After a minute or two, Ron said, "You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross—"

"Ron, we can't!" I said at once.

"Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!"

"We know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?"

"Okay, okay, it was just an idea!"

We relapsed into a prickly silence. The gum-chewing waitress shuffled over and I ordered three cappuccinos: As Harry was invisible, it would have looked odd to order him one. A pair of burly workmen entered the cafe and squeezed into the next booth.

I dropped my voice to a whisper. "I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside. Once we're there, we could send a message to the Order."

"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?" asked Ron.

"I've been practicing and I think so."

"Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble, though they might've been arrested already. God, that's revolting," Ron added after one sip of the foamy, grayish coffee. The waitress had heard; she shot Ron a nasty look as she shuffled off to take the new customers' orders.

"Way to go Ron," Ginny said as the larger of the two workmen, who was blond and quite huge, waved the waitress away. She stared, affronted.

"Let's get going, then, I don't want to drink this muck," said Ron. "Hermione, have you got Muggle money to pay for this?"

"Yes, I took out all my Building Society savings before I came to the Burrow. I'll bet all the change is at the bottom," I sighed, reaching for my beaded bag.

Ron, lunged across the table, pushing me sideways onto her Ginny, as the two men suddenly shot spells in our direction. The force of the Death Eaters' spells shattered the tiled wall where Ron's head had just been, as Harry, still invisible, yelled, "Stupefy!"

The great blond Death Eater was hit in the face by a jet of red light: He slumped sideways, unconscious. His companion, unable to see who had cast the spell, fired another at Ron: Shining black ropes flew from his wand-tip and bound Ron head to foot— the waitress screamed and ran for the door—Harry sent another Stunning Spell at the Death Eater with the twisted face who had tied up Ron, but the spell missed, rebounded on the window, and hit the waitress, who collapsed in front of the door.

"Expulso!" bellowed the Death Eater, and the table behind which Harry was standing blew up: The force of the explosion slammed him into the wall and the Cloak slipped off him.

"Reducto!" I heard Ginny yell, hitting the table behind the Death Eater as he moved away, right into the path of my spell. "Petrificus Totalus!"

The Death Eater fell forward like a statue to land with a crunching thud on the mess of broken china, table, and coffee. I crawled out from underneath the bench, shaking bits of glass ashtray out of my hair and trembling all over, Ginny emerged from behind a bench and went to check on Harry.

"D–diffindo," I said, pointing my wand at Ron, who roared in pain as I slashed open the knee of his jeans, leaving a deep cut. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ron, my hand's shaking! Diffindo!"

The severed ropes fell away. Ron got to his feet, shaking his arms to regain feeling in them. Harry took his wand from Ginny and climbed over all the debris to where the large blond Death Eater was sprawled across the bench, Ginny behind him.

Ron and I made our way over as Harry said, "I should've recognized him, he was there the night Dumbledore died." He turned over the darker Death Eater with his foot; the man's eyes moved rapidly between the four of us.

"That's Dolohov," said Ron. "I recognize him from the old wanted posters. I think the big one's Thorfinn Rowle."

"Never mind what they're called!" I said, a little hysterically. "How did they find us? What are we going to do?"

"Lock the door," Harry told her, "and Ron, turn out the lights."

He looked down at the paralyzed Dolohov; I locked the door, and gestured for Ginny to get the blinds. Ron used the Deluminator to plunge the cafe into darkness. We could hear the men who had jeered earlier, yelling at another girl in the distance.

"What are we going to do with them?" Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, "Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now."

I shuddered and took a step backward as Ginny went very still. Harry shook his head.

"We just need to wipe their memories," said Harry. "It's better like that, it'll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here."

"You're the boss," said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved. "But I've never down a Memory Charm."

"I have," I said quietly.

I took a deep, calming breath, then pointed my wand at Dolohov's forehead and said, "Obliviate."

At once, Dolohov's eyes became unfocused and dreamy.

"Brilliant!" said Harry, clapping me on the back. "Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron, Ginny, and I clear up."

"Clear up?" said Ron, looking around at the partly destroyed cafe. "Why?"

"Don't you think they might wonder what's happened if they wake up and find themselves in a place that looks like it's just been bombed?"

"Oh right, yeah . . . "

Ginny snorted as Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his wand from his pocket.

"It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I hissed, making a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead that normally would have embarrassed me, as I dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows.

Once the cafe was restored to its previous condition, we heaved the Death Eaters back into their booth and propped them up facing each other.

"But how did they find us?" I asked, looking from one inert man to the other. "How did they know where we were?"

I turned to Harry.

"I don't know. But until we figure it out we need to be extra cautious. Could Ginny still be under the trace?"

"No." Ginny protested vehemently, as I explained that her trace had been transferred to the body of the old muggle a few days previous, and that Tonks would be breaking it as soon as she got the chance if she hadn't already.

"We need a safe place to hide," said Ron logically. "Give us time to think things through."

"Grimmauld Place," said Harry.

The rest of us gaped.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!" I exclaimed as Ginny shouted, "Are you out of your mind?" and Ron just stared.

"Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him—and even if they haven't worked," he pressed on as I began to argue "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"

"But—"

"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater. If they have some method of tracking us, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go."

I could not argue, though I would have liked to. However, I knew when I was outnumbered, and Ron and Ginny were now nodding their heads in agreement with Harry. So while I unlocked the cafe door, Ron clicked the Deluminator to release the cafe's light. Then, on Harry's count of three, we reversed the spells upon our three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, we had turned on the spot – Ginny side-alonging with me – and vanished into the compressing darkness once more.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thank-you for reading, and to everyone who has followed, favorited, andor reviewed! Please tell me what you think! **

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**CA (Guest)- Thank-you for taking the time to review. I am glad you like where I am going with this, however I will not be leaving out the lyrics as they serve a purpose. Feel free to scroll past them. If they really irritate you so much that you are unable to do this, than I regret losing you readership, but the back button is in the top left corner of your screen and you may stop reading at any time you choose. Thank-you for your criticism but I will maintain that I retain the right to ignore it if I choose, and I feel that I would lose something if I removed the lyrics. I hope you continue to read this but understand if you leave the story.**


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